Ten Lives
by DanceInLightening
Summary: Ten lives. Ten times to say hello and goodbye. Ten times to get just close enough and then pass each other by. Ten times until they get it right. Ten times until she gets her well deserved happily ever after.


**Disclaimer: I own only my idea for this story. I do not own any of the characters, trust me on this guys.**

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In her first life she had tried, she really had. No one could ever say that she did not try.

She fell to the ground the last bit of her strength abandoning her. She could feel her life slipping away but she felt numb to the pain, certainly a bad sign indeed. The young woman knew that her abdomen must have been in tatters but she could not bear to glance down at it, so very afraid of what she may see. Instead she looked around her at the carnage littering the streets she could not suppress the sob that reached her lips. She tried to muffle it by covering her mouth with her hands but it was no use. She could not even find the strength to raise her arms any more. It truly was the end. Her cries broke through the now silent night as she mourned for all those who had fallen around her, as well as for herself.

Their faces invaded her mind and she could do nothing to stop them. It was only yesterday that they had all been at their house, smiling and laughing. Their voices had been loud and vivacious as always, but so had their laughter. Just another weekly gathering of all of the people that were so dear to her and her husband. Her best friend had even chosen that day to tell her and the others that she was expecting a child and they had all been so overjoyed. Everything had been going right. It wasn't fair that all of that happiness had disappeared.

They had agreed to meet up in town the next day to go to a restaurant and truly celebrate the good news. She can still see his eyes reflecting back at her in her mirror as he helped to clasp her necklace around her neck while they were getting ready to leave. Such a simple action, it was one that he had performed many times before. An action that the naïve girl had taken for granted. What she wouldn't give to return to that moment at her vanity, with him smiling warmly back at her.

Lunch had gone well, all of them still riding off the high of yesterday's news. But then there had been a sound, louder than any she had ever heard before. She looked outside the small café window and the world was on fire. They had all scrambled out of their seats and turned to run, pushing past anyone in their way. She had managed to grab his hand and held onto it for dear life, because nothing made sense anymore but he was still there and that was all that she needed to know she would make it out alright.

The group had managed to escape out through the kitchens back door, but all too soon they were separated in the chaos. All but her and the boy. They ran for what seemed like an eternity until they came across a dead end street. Desperate, they turned around, only to see the man's best friend standing where they had just come running from. Another man was there with him, and for a second the young woman thought that they were embracing as ridiculous as that seemed at the moment. But then she glimpsed the silver glint of steel sticking out of the man's back and watched as he slumped to the ground his eyes going hazy and then blank.

The man with the knife turned on them next and her husband, her lover, her soul mate, tried so hard to protect her. But he fell, with one quick slash to the throat, his life leaving him as quickly as it took the man to slash at her several times. She tried to raise her arms to defend herself, but her small frame was nothing compared to his brute force. Then there was a loud shout and the man turned around and ran off in another direction leaving the two to their fate.

As she lay there, her life force leaving her all she wished for was one more chance. One more opportunity to get it right and to not have to leave them. To not have to leave him. Those were her last thoughts as her weeping eyes went blank.

She was only 19 and her first life was over.

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In her second life she was entirely too late.

She smiled at the boy sitting across the counter, and he looked exactly how she remembered him. She wondered at first how her own looks transferred over from life to life but three years after regaining her memories she has learned not to question it. At twenty-two she had finally come to grips with the memories she received on her nineteenth birthday, and had come to accept them as another facet of her life. She guessed some things just work in mysterious ways.

She brought him his coffee, exactly the way he ordered it. It wasn't the way he liked it before, he had never enjoyed the taste of sugar in his coffee as he seemed to do in this lifetime. But that is okay, one or two slight changes do not change an entire person, she knew that for a fact. For example in her last life she had no artistic talent whatsoever, but at that moment she was an aspiring painter whom her friends insisted was going places. Yet she still had the same sense of humor, and she still loved to dance. She still loved him, it seemed not even death could stop that.

The young woman had not been the one to take his order, but when she had seen him she begged her co-worker to be the one to deliver it to him. The other girl had looked confused, and then smiled knowingly. She had joked about love at first sight, but if she had known the truth she would have known that it wasn't that at all. It was love from another life, another existence. Love from so deep within her soul that she doesn't think she can ever shake it off. And she doesn't want to, not ever.

Giddily she almost danced over until she was standing in front of him, more than a bit nervous to finally be seeing him again after all these years. None the less her huge grin never for a second left her face. When she placed the coffee down in front of him she made sure that the small dish it was placed on made noise as it hit the counter. Not enough to shock him, but enough to get his attention. Seemingly shaken out of some sort of reverie the man looked up from the paper he was reading and their eyes met. Electricity coursed through her entire body as she stared into those eyes, eyes that were exactly the same as they were before. She could look into hundreds, thousands of pairs of eyes and none of them would have the effect of the ones she was staring into.

She had expected him to react to her presence, to smile as bright as the sun likes she knows he can. Maybe he could have even jumped up and reached out to grab her wrist, or to cup her face in his hands like he used to. Maybe even call out her old name in exclamation, in joy of finding each other again after so long. But he only smiled lightly at her and thanks her in one of his gentler of tones. When he picked up the cup before him not really giving her a second glance is when she realized it. He must not have remembered her, or else he surely would have said something.

The thought of him not remembering never even crossed her mind and for a moment she was shocked silent. Not one to be deterred however she was about to be as bold as she could be and ask him for his name in hopes of getting another meeting out of that encounter. Anything to get them back to where they were before their lives were stolen from them in a cruel twist of fate. All she needed is just one date, one chance, and she knew that she could get him to fall in love with her again. But then she noticed it, the gold band on his ring finger.

He was married. In their current life he would never be hers.

Trying not to cry she smiled back at him, even though his attention was once again fixated on his paper, before turning and hurrying back into the break room. As the door shut behind her sobs wracked her body, and she griped onto the door handle like it was a life line to keep from falling to the floor. All she could think of is how unfair the whole situation was, how once more she had lost the only person who has full control of her heart. But not to violence or to a trick of fate, but simply by luck and chance.

She was 22, talented, and beautiful, with her whole second life ahead of her. And she hated it, because she knew she will never have him. She would have preferred their first short life again to live a whole life without him. For the next forty years she pined for him, that boy she only saw that one time at a part-time job she only held for six months. She died surrounded by friends, but no spouse or children littered her bedside. She would have no one but him.

Once more she begged that if there was a next time, she could spend it with him. And if not she vowed to wait, as long as it took.

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In her third life, she was so close, and yet so very far.

When she had walked into his classroom for the first time she did not know who he was. Not really at least. He was just her older professor who had great insight into his field despite the fact that he sometimes became flustered. She grew to know him as the man with graying hair, and the beginnings of crow marks on his face. The man who liked to crack jokes and smiled sheepishly whenever any of his students praised him, a kind man who she was proud to learn from.

When she woke up on her birthday it was hard for her to get her head around. The idea that she had past lives was strange and foreign to her, as until that moment in her life she had never believed or put any stock into reincarnation. It was so startling that she skipped going to class for the next week, not caring what her professors would say. She was nineteen, and in college, and she was her own boss. She was also apparently a lot older than she thought.

Over that week her aged memories filtered into her consciousness somewhat. It was a weird experience, one that she remembered going through before. Logically she knew what was right and wrong, and her mind held a lot of useful knowledge. But her body almost rejected it, and she often found herself ignoring her own newly gained wisdom. For the most part her actions remained unchanged.

So when she had arrived back to classes and looked at her aged professor she had not expected what greeted her. His eyes were staring back at her from the front of the room, only glossing over her as he was taking roll. Her heart stopped beating and she could not breathe. Quickly she grabbed all of her belongings and ran from the room. She ignored his calls asking her where she was going and brushed off the stares of all of her classmates. She had to get out of there now before they all saw the tears falling from her wide shocked eyes.

How? She wondered as she entered her dormitory. How was he so much older than she was? Was he born too early? Was she born too late? She didn't know she just knew that it wasn't fair. She hadn't even had the chance to hope, to dream, of their life together before that very opportunity was taken from her viciously.

She continued to attend his class, even after that horrific day. She tried to not think of him the way that she did. She tried not to love him. But it was no use she simply could not help herself. Even at his advanced age he managed to catch her eye. She thought several times of confessing. Of just coming out and saying that she loved him and didn't care if her was older, or that he was her professor.

She just loved him.

She never told him in the end, unable to bring up the courage before the semester ended. She tried to fit another of his classes into her schedule but it was not to be, she had only taken his class for fun in the first place after all. What he taught had nothing to do with her major, he was an English Literature professor and she studied design. Still even after she graduated she visited the campus every so often to give lectures about her own field of study, always hoping to run into him again.

She learned when she was 45 that he had passed on, a heart attack they said. To her it didn't really matter what it was, all that mattered is that he was gone once again and she was all alone. They ended up making a plaque for him and placed it outside of the building where he held most of his lectures. She would smile sadly whenever she passed it on her way to give her own talks.

When she died at 78 they made a plaque in her honor as well, much like his. Although where his managed to have sunlight shining on it almost the entire day hers was tucked gently in the shade. If she could have seen it should would have laughed and called it fitting.

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In her fourth life she waited.

From the moment she turned nineteen there was only one thought that was on her mind, one person who took up every second of every minute of every day. No matter what she did she could not shake the thoughts of him that often spiraled through her mind. It had to be this time, she was sure of it. It was after all her third time being reborn, and as they say the third time is the charm.

The first ten years after she got her memory back were hell, pure and simple. On top of her inability to forget him life threw all that it could at the poor girl. Once one problem was solved another quickly arose to takes its place. She became almost jaded to the world, her sweet remarks somewhat more bitter than she would have otherwise liked. She was so angry, those years were supposed to be the time of her life, but she spent them pining for a boy who she had not even seen in her current lifetime. She felt like she was wasting her youth on him, on the idea of him. She didn't even know what his life was like. Was he already married again? Or was he so old he was in a retirement home at that point?

The next ten years she spent simply having fun. She lost all care for the boy, or at least she tried to. She told herself that if they were meant to find each other, and they were, then it would happen no matter what she did. So she went out to parties with her friends, and worked hard to get the raises and promotions that she wanted. She truly lived the life that she wanted, that she imagined having before her memories had been restored to her. And for a while it was enough.

The next ten years things started to slow down a bit, and a great change occurred. She was getting older, in her forties, and people her age simply did not go out and drink every weekend. People also started to assume she was married, or had children, and it was always awkward when she had to tell them she had neither a husband nor children. The more they asked the more she felt like something was missing from her life and after much consideration she decided to adopt. She spent over a year looking for the perfect child before she found him.

He was five years old, and so sad and alone that it broke her heart. For a moment it was like looking into a mirror and seeing the eyes of one of her past lives after finding out their love could not be theirs. After she adopted the little boy he became her world and she had little to no time to think of the man she was supposed to be pining after. Being a mother was hard; the toughest of the jobs she had held in her lifetimes, but it was also the most fulfilling. The boy lived with her for fifteen years until he found a steady job and a nice young lady to settle down with.

By this time she was old, and after three more years on the job she retired. She lived on her own for a while, with many visits from her son, his wife, and their two young children. These visits made her day, but the times in-between were filled with such a bitter loneliness. One day she finally decided that enough was enough, and checked herself into a retirement home. Her son protested saying that she could always live with them, but she did not want to be a burden and it would be nice to associate with people her own age. So she did what she always did, and followed her intuition ignoring her son's wishes.

It was there that she met him for the first time in that life. He lived three doors down from her and was confined to a wheelchair. His hair was gray, and his voice was soft and raspy, but she loved him on first sight all over again anyway. The first time she talked to him was during a group get together of everyone watching a sporting event. She made sure to sit next to him and was shocked to see that they liked the same team. Knowing that fact the conversation flowed easily and they became fast friends.

It took the poor old man two years to ask her out on a proper date, to which of course she said yes to with no hesitation. The next three years were true bliss for the girl, now old woman, who had been waiting so many years for these moments with him. But alas they were nearing the end of that life and so it did not last long. She was the one to leave first this time, on a warm spring day when the flowers were blooming. She died in her sleep, dreaming of what their life would have been like if they had only met a few decades before.

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In her fifth life she finds comfort in the unexpected.

She meets him for the first time in around two hundred years at a bus stop. It was raining, and the poor young girl was grateful for the little awning that would protect her from the storm. She folded up her umbrella and tried to shake what moisture she could out of it. Raising her head she only has to see his hair for a second before she recognizes him as the same as the boy who was killed before her eyes in her first life. The last time she had seen him he had a knife through his chest. Without contemplating anything for even a moment she acts. Reaching out she grabs the arm of his coat and blurts out the name she knew him by.

When he turns to look at her and asks who the hell she is talking about she should not be surprised, after all even the love of her life had not remembered her. But as always the girl has far too big a heart and hope practically runs in her veins. Sighing she lets go of his shirt and apologizes, saying that she thought he was someone else. He gives her a weird look and calls her a stupid girl and turns away from her.

For a moment she becomes prettified. What if he leaves? She hasn't seen him since her first life and he may just walk out on her, never remembering her as anything more than that stranger he met at the bus stop one day. If he even remembers her at all. So she rises to the bait, saying that she isn't stupid but he is for assuming that she is not bright off of one interaction.

She and the boy argue back and forth for several minutes, a verbal spar she had not taken place in for so long, yet it came so easily to her. The feeling was absolutely nostalgic. By the time the bus arrived she knew that they are both attending the same university, he for the sciences and her for literature. They kept talking through the bus ride to the school and when they parted ways that afternoon she had his number.

They meet up several times over the next couple of months, and soon enough word has spread through the small campus that they were dating. They were not and denied they were at any given chance, but the student population did not seem to care about their opinions on their own relationship. In place of romantic feelings a true friendship had blossomed, and for the first time in a long time the young girl thought that even if she spent her life without her love she could spend all of it in joy, knowing the feeling of having someone who knew all of her quirks and still cared about her by her side.

One day the boy finally invites her to come to his apartment so he can help her study for her astronomy class. The young girl agrees and they set a date for the upcoming Wednesday. When she first enters his home she sees nothing out of the ordinary, it was a bit cluttered but the mess was contained. Mostly it was just his books, pilled near ceiling high on top of the few bookcases he had scattered about. He asks if she wants anything to drink, she says she wouldn't mind some water and as he walks off into the kitchen he responds telling her to make herself comfortable.

She is about to sit down on the couch when she sees it right beside the television. The photo is a bit old but the people in it are so easy for her to distinguish it's not even funny. And right in the center it's him. She rushes over and picks it up, holding the frame gently in her hands. How long had it been since she had seen him with chub on his cheeks? Far, far, too long. He couldn't have been more than 13 years old, but his eyes were the same, the one thing about him that never seemed to change.

When the boy re-entered the room he asked what she was doing. She looked at him with such hope in her eyes, demanding if he knew where the boy in the center of the photo was. He lowered his head and didn't reply. Angry at his lack of response she asked again, and again, until she was almost screaming. She was so close, maybe the others were there as well! Why wouldn't he answer her!

And then the boy exploded saying the words she never wanted to hear. He's dead. She caught some words, they were out late, just fifteen, walking home laughing about their teacher, a car, the guy behind the wheel was drunk. She didn't want to hear anymore. She broke down crying then and there and for the first time that she had cried about losing him, someone else was crying with her. She grasped onto the frame in her hands like she did to the only other person in the room, desperately and with so little hope. They didn't study that night.

He never asked how she knew him, and she never supplied the details. The first week after that horrible night was awkward, but their friendship was strong and it persevered. After college they kept in close contact and even ended up moving to the same city. Neither ever married and they ended up moving in together when they got old to look out for each other. He died at 89, a master in his field and she followed a good three years later.

That life proved much easier than the next, because she had found hope in her friend; hope that they were all out there somewhere. And one day she would be reunited with everyone she lost the first time around.

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In her sixth life she could not stop looking.

Every single day she looked for them, in every face in every crowd. It became an obsession, she knew that they were out there now; she just had to find them. How many times had she missed them before that point? Had she walked by them all on the street and never noticed because she was so focused on finding the person she loved?

What if others from their group remembered like she did? What if they were out there searching for her and the others just like she was? How could she live with herself if she did not try and find those that were so important to her? The answer was that she couldn't, not for a minute. She could never give up on her friends. She refused to lose them again like she had the first time.

This life was her shortest besides her first, she only reached the ripe young age of twenty four before she was killed. Yes, killed. A life, specifically this one, was cut far too short for the girls liking. She never even knew for certain if she had found what she had been praying for. What she had been wishing for. What she had been searching for. What her entire damn lives were for.

She had been walking down the street her eyes ever searching, ever looking, hoping beyond hope that one face in the crowd would stand out. She looked at their eyes, their hair, the shape of their lips and nose. No aspect of their faces was ever left out of the equation. But the people who passed her by all seemed to fade into the background, none possessing the features that the people she held dearest did.

Until one did; one shock of dark hair and chocolate almost amber eyes and she knew. He had been one of his closest friends; they had always seemed to be together. Maybe now that he was there they would be able to put the puzzle pieces of their old lives together. Maybe, oh just maybe they could all be like a family again.

After all this was the boy who had helped hold them all together whenever things had gotten rough. Whenever anyone in the group had been sad he had smiled and joked and laughed until they had joined in with him. Surely without him there was no family, no close true bond between them. So it would make sense then that if they were together, two essential pieces of the puzzle, the others would start to fall into place.

It was a desperate thought, one born of loneliness, but she couldn't shake it, not for the life of her. She had to see him. Not even caring for her own health for one second she ran towards him.

The light changed.

Tires squealed.

A pain like she had never felt before, different, oh so different from the last time she was killed.

People were screaming all around her, telling others to call the ambulance. Someone called out if anyone knew first aid, but no one answered positively. Yet in the end, despite the fact that she was bleeding out, they all seemed afraid to get to close. They didn't run forth and try and stop the bleeding, instead they formed a sort of circle around her. Would she die alone like this? The thought haunted her; she had just started this life she didn't want to have to start over again.

Too soon.

It was too soon.

And then she heard his voice. After all that time it seemed like that hadn't changed either. Hers and the other boys hadn't, so why would his?

Wait? Was he calling her by her original name?

Yes, yes he was. She must have been going delusional.

Was her subconscious trying to make her feel better? Letting her believe that he remembered too in these last moments before she slipped away?

Well it just made it worse. Because if her brain was lying then that meant that he never would have remembered her and she couldn't have a repeat of the last life she lived. It had been nice but she had been haunted by the ghosts that surrounded them both that the boy had never known about. So how could she talk to him about them? Simple, she couldn't. She had spent her last life nearly as alone, more comfortable, but still alone. She would not do it again.

But if the boy calling out to her did remember? Then she had lost out on that. On being able to talk and laugh about the things she knew that no one else did. All of the inside jokes would once more come to life after over 200 years. The people they had met and the things they had done would have been confirmed in his existence. He would have proven that she wasn't crazy, that all of her memories were real.

And what was most important? Why was it so essential that he remembered?

She would have truly had part of her family back.

And missing out on that?

Well that would have been just torturous.

His eyes filled her vision. Arms grasped at her, gently shaking her form trying to force her to stay awake. And she wanted to, if only to keep hearing her name. No one had called her that for so long. It was nice to hear it again.

And there, in the arms of the one who remembered, she slipped once more from this world.

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In her seventh life she believed Karma has come back to haunt her.

She had learned over her lives that she is not always born in what would have been the future for her next life. For example in her last life she was born about 150 years before her third life. Her first life had been the earliest however and it seemed that she could not go back father than that point. She got pretty close with this lifetime though.

When she regained her memory in her seventh life it was only fifty years and twenty nine days since she had originally passed on. A lot had changed in that time, but a lot was still the same. She couldn't help but to compare the two times, the two lives. In her first she had been happy, fun, go lucky. In this life she was much the same. Each life while adding to her history did not change her nature. It seemed that she was always destined to be the kind girl who would do absolutely anything for those she loved.

In this particular life she had always held the dream of being a teacher, being the eldest of five would do that to you it seemed. Not knowing, or wanting any better, she devoted herself to getting a degree in what she considered to be one of the most honorable fields in the world. When she regained the memories of the times she used to be a guest speaker her dream was only solidified more.

And so for six years she taught people, teenagers, who varied so much in every aspect of their lives. She taught bullies, and those they bullied. She educated those considered prodigies and kid's society had deemed stupid. To her none of that mattered, all that she cared about was making sure that everyone who walked through her door walked out a bit wiser than when they entered.

So imagine her surprise when on the first day of her seventh year of teaching she looks up to see him in the second row of her classroom. Thankfully she had progressed some when it came to hiding her shock and was easily able to pass off the look on her face by saying that he looked like one of her siblings when they had been younger. No one questioned it, after all why would they.

She spent the next year trying to treat him exactly the same as every other student, and she liked to think that she succeeded. He passed her class with an A as he had definitely applied himself to trying to grasp her history course. She could not say she was not disappointed when the school year was over and she knew he would not be in her class again.

Now she knew she should feel wrong about the way she felt for him, but she could not bring herself to. She had not acted on her feelings and she had no intentions to. He was a young innocent boy who had his whole life ahead of him and she had no right to act on her feelings for him. She was his teacher nothing more and she could hold in her impulses.

Apparently he could not do the same.

On the last day of school, after grades had been submitted and all the students had left, he had entered her room. Surprised she asked why he was there, wondering if he had forgotten something in one of the desks. When he looked away from her and blushed her heart sped up in a way that she knew in the pit of her stomach that it shouldn't have. And then he just started spouting out words that she had come to believe would never come from his mouth again.

He said he loved her. That she was beautiful, and nice, and overall the best person that he had ever met. That when he woke up he thought of her, and when he went to bed she was on his mind. Every line made her heart sore and her stomach go cold. And then he rushed forward and kissed her.

He was fifteen, she was twenty nine. It was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. But oh so right. She didn't respond. She made sure to stay still as a statue despite the fact that all she wanted to do was lean in. In her first life the first time they had kissed they had been the age he was now. But in this life they were not so lucky.

When he finally pulled away, she let him down as gently as she could, pointing out all the reasons that they would never work out as a couple. He seemed as frozen as her heart did, and when she finished he just let her grab her bag and leave. He never tried to stop her, and she wasn't sure if she even wanted him to try.

She spent the rest of her life regretting that decision, that choice to just leave. She ended up resigning from that school right after and not returning for the next year. For the rest of her life she was a substitute teacher and never left herself get to close to any of the classes she taught. She thought once many years later she may have run into his son in the seventh grade class she had been assigned to for the day. She never looked into if the boy with his eyes was actually his son or not, her heart could not take it if he was.

But it didn't matter, she had royally fucked up, and she was paying for it. She died alone at seventy seven in her small apartment. She wished she could say that would be the lowest point of all of her lives, but she would be lying. The next life proved to be much worse.

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In her Eighth life she lost herself to the dark side.

This time she had not been born to a loving and caring family as she had been in the lives she had before. She came into her eighth life kicking and screaming and for the first few years of her life those actions were all that she knew. Her father had been a kind man once, or so she had been told, but by the time she was born he was in debt deep. Her mother was obsessed with the finer things in life causing her husband to spend more on her. It was a vicious cycle of yelling about having no money and spending money they didn't have. A few times the fights got physical, though it was always her mother attacking her father.

By the time the girl was six they had gotten a divorce and her mother had gotten custody. Well at least she did for two years until she passed on in a bank robbery gone wrong while the girl was in school. She was then shipped off to her father and found out the dark truth about what he had become since her mother had left him.

He drank more than ever and yelled at everyone and everything he saw. But the worst thing that he did was let the scum that he gambled with into his house. At the time when he started to let them in she honestly and truly enjoyed the men that came to visit and play cards, they were nice to her unlike her father and would listen when she spoke. They may have dressed a little weird but they were all kind men so what they wore never bothered her.

What she didn't know was that they were, well to put it lightly, assassins. Guns and various weapons for hire really, but in the end the weapon doesn't actually make that much difference. And one night things got heated even more than usual because her father couldn't pay them what he owed. So they killed him and took her.

Despite how they appeared they were never cruel or malicious to her as she grew. She went to good schools and was allowed to become her own person. But the dark seed of the underworld will not let you go once it has sown its roots. By the time she remembered at nineteen she had become the fifth best assassin in the group. And possibly worst of all she had come to love doing her job, after all most of the people they were hired to kill were liars, and cheats, and overall horrible people.

Or so she told herself so she could go to bed at night.

As for the boy she love with all of her heart, by the time she remembered her hands had been stained with blood so many times that she couldn't bear to think of touching him with them. She thought of suicide once or twice after some particularly hard nights but she abstained as she had in all of her previous lives. She knew that killing supposedly corrupted the soul, but she was in too deep to not kill at that point. And if killing was bad suicide was said to turn ones soul black. So what if killing herself ended in no more extra lives to try and find him? She couldn't take the risk, not even for her own gain. Not even to end the pain.

She sees him once in this life at a party that she was forced to attend on her boss's wishes. He was tall and handsome and appeared to be around her age. And he was alive oh so very much alive and right in front of her, and nothing would have prevented them being together in that life if things had only been simpler. But it was not to be. He had his arm draped around a red haired beauties shoulder and all she wanted to do is go over there and rip them apart. She wanted to throw his arm off of that harlots shoulder and grab the gun holstered to her thigh. What she wanted more than anything in the world in that moment was to put a bullet in-between that woman's eyes.

It takes a moment to realize what had crossed her mind. She had told herself over and over again that she would not look for him, not bring him into the lifestyle that she was living. She knew that his kind nature was not suited for the life she had chosen, hell she often wondered when she herself had become so jaded. But all it took was one glance at him and she was willing to kill for him. Kill an innocent woman for her own selfish needs. For a man who would never remember her.

She leaves the party early that night and steels herself up tighter than a ship. Gone is the optimism she had of their life together, this time she had burned that bridge with her own two hands.

She died at the age of forty-five while on a mission. She never even heard the other man's bullet leave the barrel.

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In her ninth life she was everything to him, in a way that she never wanted to be.

The first time that they met they were six and in their first year of school. She saw him from across the room and never guessed for a moment who he was, and would not for another fifteen years. She only knew him as the boy who was actually a little shorter than her and liked to draw.

She can't remember how it started, when the thought of him getting a better grade then her started to tick her off to no end. All she knew is that by the end of that first year she had sworn that she would be better than him in everything. By the end of the next year she had managed to get him to feel the same way about her. It was the beginning of a war that would last their entire lifetime.

They attended the same middle and high schools and their need to one up the other only grew. If she joined a club he would do the same soon after and try and do better than her in it. If he was scheduled in a class that she was not in she transferred into it to try and beat out all of his test scores. Everyone around them said that it was the weirdest form of sexual tension that they had ever seen though the two in question always denied liking the other.

And the girl, in all honesty, did not like the other boy. For some reason all she felt towards was a deep rooted dislike, bordering on hatred. She despised him from the bottom of her heart. She could do without his fake smiles and pretend words of congratulations when she managed to best him. She would much rather see his face twisted in triumph, laughing at her rather than with her, any day. For some reason it broke her heart to see him happy, and so she did everything to make him miserable.

They were attending college when she remembered once more, and she knew why preferred to see him upset. She truly felt that she did not deserve to see him happy. After her last life a part of her had given up on ever being happy with him, so seeing him smile crushed her heart.

She no longer deserved to see him smile or to hear him laugh. She would never have any inside jokes with him born from staying up together at all hours of the night. She thought that she would never again taste his lips on hers, and she liked it. She loved the feeling of wallowing in her own pain because it meant that she was still alive, that some basic part of her had not be lost in all of her do-overs.

So she pushed herself harder and harder, and if any part of her heart fluttered when she would hear him laugh from across the classroom, she did everything in her power to stop it. It seemed that in this life hate and love truly seemed to go hand and hand for her. The more she pushed him away the more the good memories of him surfaced, and if she thought about bringing him close she remembered the blood on her hands. She was plagued with many sleepless nights and far too many 'what if's?'.

They were about to graduate and go their separate ways when she lost it, finally she let go. She texted him, his number in her phone just so they could brag about test scores and bring the other down a peg, and she told him to come over to her dorm room. When he understandably asked why she told him that she thought that one of the teachers might be changing test scores and she had proof. That fact wasn't true, but it got him over to her room fast enough.

As soon as he entered the room and shut the door securely behind him she pounced. Her lips crashed into his with a force she didn't think that she possessed in that lifetime. And for a moment, a heartbreaking moment, he was stone still. But then he wasn't and it was like someone had lit a fire between them and it couldn't be put out. Not for lack of trying though.

For the first time since she had regained her memories she just was, no good side or bad side, just her. In his arms being held in a way that he hadn't held her in centuries. And it was good, oh so good. She wanted time to freeze; for the earth to stop spinning, and the clocks to stop ticking, and for the rest of the world to just pause while she took him in.

All too soon they had to break apart for air. That is when their eyes met and it all fell apart. He started to stutter and then his back went ramrod straight and his voice became laced with something she couldn't name. Four words and he was out the door. We can't do this.

Her heart shatters a bit more but in the end she moves on as she always must. She comes to the conclusion that maybe she can make up for her last life is she does good deeds in her current one. Then maybe next time he will not push her away. She dedicates the rest of her life to work with charity organizations, giving back in any way that she can.

She dies at ninety-three, a pillar of her community. The wake was full of people, all who came to grieve the passing of someone they held in such high respect. They all came in and left relatively quickly, except for one gray haired old man who stood by the collage of pictures all night. His eyes were forever focused on a picture of two brown haired school children making faces at each other and showing the camera each of their tests. Both were marked with 100%.

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In her tenth life she finally gets him back and has her happy ending.

She wakes up in a cold sweat, her chest heaving and body heavy. Memories swirl behind her eyelids, and she cannot find the strength to open her eyes to stop the visions. She didn't think that she even wanted to stop what was happening.

The good and the bad came flowing in at even intervals, for every good memory a bad one is there right beside it. Her first kiss and her first kill. His smile and then her tears. Laughing with everyone and then having them all just out of her reach. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream all at the same time. The emotions were just too much, it was all just too much.

The bed shifted and suddenly arms were wrapped around her frame. She heard him, his voice muffled by her own panic, but she heard him. He was whispering sweet words that never truly reach her ears, but the tone reached her just fine. She latched onto him, basically clawing at him trying to lessen any distance between them. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and cried and cried until there were no more tears left only empty body wracking sobs.

She remembered the world going dark and his name, his first name leaving her lips as she falls into oblivion. She never managed to see his eyes go wide and glaze over for a moment before it being replaced with a smile.

When she woke up she was alone and quite honestly a bit scared. The previous night had thrown her off balance in a way that she had never expected, had never dreamed of. And with all of the new information in her head she was at a loss of what to do. The old memories were fighting the new and it was as if there was a war going on inside her head. It took a moment for her memories, past and present to sync, and when they did the fear melted away.

Old faces she had all but forgotten merged with ones she had seen the day before. Old voices that sounded faint at their best were now clear and practically ringing in her ears. Habits that they had held and she had forgotten, were now fresh as a spring rain. They were there, all of them were there.

The door opened and he entered, and oh how she wanted to just throw her arms around him. And she did. Because in this life they were engaged and finally he was hers once more. Her grip is almost as firm as the one she held on him the night before until he utters one word, her name. Not her name there in that moment, but the name he had called her when they lived in a big house many miles away and he would help her put on her necklaces every day.

He caught her and when she looked up at his face all she saw is his stunning smile and warm brown eyes. He said her name again. And again. And again. And the sound of it was greater than if the angels of heaven above had been singing it to her. He grips her tighter and pulls her back in close to him and she held him once more. She muttered his name once into his shoulder and he came undone.

Their lips met in an embrace that is not gentle, but it is not violent either. There was so much that each wanted to say in that kiss and they tried their damnedest to say it without words. And there in that embrace in their shared bedroom is where they get their happy end.

The story could continue as they would break apart and he tells her the truth. That he had always remembered her in every life and he had never stopped wanting her. He would lead her downstairs where they were all waiting to see her, each and every one of them.

Gokudera, the boy who stayed with her for an entire lifetime, would be smoking by the bottom of the stairs anxious to see her. Yamamoto would be right there by his side, and she would recognize him as the boy who had held her as she had passed on when she was hit by that car. Then there would be Chrome and Mukuro, two people who were not twins though looked and acted the part. They would be on the couch, Chrome holding onto her male counterparts hand for comfort. The last time she had seen Chrome the girl had been pregnant, though now she wasn't even engaged. Hibari would be standing off in a corner, not directly interacting with the others but his eyes searching the room for her as if she would just materialize. Ryohei and Lambo would both have been pacing the room, Lambo doing it more out of nerves than Rhyohei's need to just burn energy while he waited. Kyoko would be trying to calm the two down and failing due to her own nerves.

When she would have entered the room they would have called out the name she had in that life as if on instinct. Cries of Haru and Tsuna however would soon be overcome by shouts of their first names. So stunned was she would have become, hearing them all call out to her that she'd start to cry again. As she was enveloped by their arms she finally felt at peace, after so many years of being half alone. She had returned home.

As they'd talked they would discover that they all remembered in every life when she turned nineteen. Never before had they understood the correlation of the dates for remembrance but it would all make sense. She was the one to wish for it after all, the center for the reincarnation, so her memories being restored triggered theirs as well.

As the day would turn to night they would stay there safe, and content, and finally happy. The small living space being made big by their love for one another, and their joy at being together again. Their self-made family may have been tinier than most but it was the only thing they really wanted or needed.

But that moment, that kiss back in the corner bedroom, is where the story really ends. Because after all that was the start of her real happily ever after.

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